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sweetsweetjellybean · 5 months

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Eddie's career as a sound engineer catapulted him into a world he had only dreamt of back in his Hawkins days, getting to rub elbows with many talented artists, including some of the bands he had admired as a kid scraping together change just to buy a single.

Chris Cornell and Eddie's friendship began shortly after Eddie's arrival in LA. Following a day of recording at the Laurel Canyon studio, where Eddie was still finding his feet as an intern, the entire staff was invited to hang out. Amid the buzz of conversation and flowing drinks, Eddie stood somewhat apart, feeling terribly shy and unsure of himself and a whole lot starstruck. He quietly nursed a bottle of Dos Equis, picking at the label as the party flowed around him.

By all accounts, Chris was a really friendly guy. He had a way of drawing people in and making them feel comfortable, always listening without judgment. When he noticed Eddie hovering by his Martin D-28 Marquis, he simply asked, "Hey man, do you play?" Eddie's brows shot into his hairline as he looked around, making sure the question was really being directed at him. A shy nod had Chris encouraging, "What are you waiting for?"

The room quieted down as Eddie picked up the guitar, treating it with the same reverence as if was just asked to hold Chris’s firstborn. Settling on the arm of the sofa, he cradled the guitar in his lap, running his fingers along its neck. The strings squeaked under his gentle exploration, getting a feel for every curve and edge like he would a woman. The sharpness of the bronze strings pressing against his calloused fingers felt familiar, almost second nature. With a hard swallow to muster his courage, Eddie let the first sweet notes of Guns N' Roses' "Patience" fill the air. He nearly missed the key change when the snarl of Chris’s voice joined in with the lyrics.

It was that night Eddie found a kindred spirit in Chris, starting a friendship that continued through their lifetime—helping each other times using music to convey their troubles and, later, their triumphs. Chris even got Eddie to start listening to the Beatles although he was too stubborn to admit it.

Eddie was inconsolable when Chris died in May of 2018—dropping everything to fly out to LA for the service. Then again in October to travel to Seattle for the unveiling of Chris’s memorial statue, placing a small bouquet and a pack of strings at his feet. To this day CursedSound makes a yearly donation to ChildHaven and MusiCares in Chris’s name.

Torn Masterlist

Edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Rest in peace Chris. You aren't forgotten. Remember you aren't alone. Connect with people you can trust. https://988lifeline.org/

#chris cornell #torn series #torn #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x reader #Spotify

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psikonauti · 6 months

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Jen Hitchings (American, b. 1988)

Agave Foxtail (Bouquet Canyon), 2022

Oil on canvas

#Jen Hitchings #upl #va #art #painting

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slowfalter · 8 months

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softness incarnate

——

Your thighs are a deep sigh of relief

Your hips reverberate through me

Like an orchestra

In a canyon

Like honey slick marble

Like quivering cliches

Your body is a loving home

At long last a triumphant slow dance

In the warm ocean

You make every hair on my body arch toward you

Like a flower to the sunlight

On your eyelashes

Like a desperate prayer

You will never see your eyes like I do

And what a gift

Like a crystal stream

In some mossy nowhere

Like your belly a bouquet of fresh cream

The peaks of a gasp

Like you don’t even know

How perfect

Your hands are

Folding like silk napkins

Your neck makes my teeth sink

Into thick velvet book covers

Old ones made of wedding cake icing

When you are pillowed feathers

Gently proving on the windowsill

Dripping from the heavens

And I can’t believe you’re there

——

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 2 months

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Stand there like a ghost Shaking come the rain She'll open up the door And say, "Are you insane?"

Say it's been a long six months And you were too afraid to tell her what you want

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

And then you say "I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever"

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

Remind her how it used to be With pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks Tell her how you must've lost your mind When you left her all alone and never told her why

And that's how it works That's how you lost the girl

And now you say "I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever"

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

And you know That I don't want you to go

Remind me how it used to be Pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks And say you want me

And then you say "I want you for worse or for better I would wait for ever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together I would wait for ever and ever

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl That's how it works

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl That's how it works!

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl Get the girl! That's how it works

And that's how it works That's how you get the girl And that's how it works That's how you get the girl

That's how it works That's how you got the girl

***

Imagine an AU where Yasmine doesn't dance around the point for 5 seasons and actually fucking TELLS Moon she's In Lesbians with her after Moon breaks up with Piper. Imagine Yasmine not being so cripplingly terrified of her own sexuality that she jumps into the world's most shallow mutual beard relationship to try and hide her feelings. Imagine Yasmine standing in the pouring February rain outside Moon's door, hands full of strawberry heart candy boxes, and bouquets bursting with hyacinth, flax, hydrangea and white rose, and even a whole fucking organic raspberry smoothie, however the hell she managed to fit that in there.

Imagine Yasmine spilling her heart out, saying she only ever lashed out at Moon at the Canyon party because she was gutted at the thought her best friend--the girl she allowed her to know her in ways most could never dream of--would pick some stupid-haired stranger over her. Imagine her eyes growing damp, and her thanking the powers that be that she was already dripping all over Moon's porch too much for her friend to notice a little extra moisture. Imagine Moon chastising her, gently but firmly. Telling her she's going to get sick if she stands out in the soaking wet cold for much longer.

And then Moon ushers her inside, dries her off with a fluffy paisley-print towel. Wraps her in blankets and sits her on the couch. Gets them blunts to numb out the pain of two broken hearts.

When Moon flicks her lighter, Yasmine's phone screen lights up too. A concerned text from her mom, fretting over her driving in the storm. Understandable--Yasmine doesn't have the best driving record on the clearest of days.

Moon notices Yasmine's lockscreen is a picture they took ages ago. Freshman year, a few weeks after they started getting adventurous in the back of the Range Rover. Squeezed together in a mall photo booth, Yasmine's lips squashed against Moon's cheek. Yasmine's eyes shut in sleepy happiness, her beam so big that her one visible dimple was widened into a little crater.

That kind of simple joy seemed so distant now. Something from a past life, long since torn apart by Yasmine's ego and cruelty and ruthless drive to make it to the top. Her terror of irreparably falling from grace if people knew who she really was. Who she truly loved.

But maybe she and Moon can have it back if Yasmine puts on her big girl panties and sucks it up. Grows some balls. (Or...lady balls. Whatever.) Admits she acted like a conceited bitch, and took the one person for granted who was prepared to follow her almost to the ends of the earth. Tell Moon that half a year without her interwoven into Yasmine's life as tightly as a French braid was the hardest half a year Yasmine's ever had.

Because that summer had chipped away at Yasmine like a blunted carving knife. It sliced off little pieces of her every time she wondered if Moon was happy she was gone, or what Stupid Blue Mohawk could give that Yasmine couldn't.

Because that fall had eaten at Yasmine with a dull, persistent ache. Moon held her at arm's length, insisting on "just friends" while she swapped kisses with Piper in the hallway. A distance that felt like thousands of miles when Yasmine had once been so close that she could feel soft, aloe-apricot-lotioned skin against hers and smell lilac, lily of the valley, and hazelwood musk wreathing around her.

And Yasmine is done missing out on the beautiful things in life because she's too busy living in fear of what others think.

"I want you," she says. "For better, for worse, whatever. Whatever the future brings, I want to face it with you. And if that means--if that means you need me to wait for you, I will. If you need a while before you can be with someone like that again, then I'll be there when you're ready. Because I love you, and I'm tired of worrying about people not accepting it. Because I don't fucking care anymore."

And maybe it's the blunt talking--or the sugar from all the candy their munchies made short work of--but it feels like the next second, Moon is kissing her a thousand times harder than she used to.

"And I don't give a fuck about my dad's wedding," Yasmine finds a way to squeeze out, long after their limbs (and mouths) are entangled on Moon's bed. "All that asshole ever does is give me shit about how I don't have a boyfriend, so he can suck it. I'm taking you to junior prom."

Moon brightens. "Really?"

"Uh, yeah. And I'm gonna rent us the best limo. And take you to the fanciest dinner. And get you a corsage that makes everyone else's look like they dug them out of the garbage."

Then Moon laughs and leans into her, and god, she missed this. "Well, then I look forward to it."

And just like that, Yasmine's future is a vast, majestic, and insurmountable thing, as bright and gleaming as the ocean on a sunny day. And as it washes over her, one salt-spray day at a time, it seems to bring one nice surprise after another.

There are dances to be had, pressed into each other in shimmering gowns and screaming when their favorite songs come on. There are quiet spots to be found, up on secluded hills with their arms circling one another's shoulders as they look over that ethereal blend of rolling city lights and faint stars. There are beaches to be walked, manicured hand in manicured hand.

And sure, maybe Yasmine will get a little bit disinherited along the way. Old-fashioned parents had a way of not understanding these kinds of things.

But it'll all be worth it if it ends with her getting the girl.

***

HIIIII YASMOON WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK FOR REAL THIS TIME

With...BRAND NEW CONTENT!!!

I realized I've been making these girls A Thing for the last 2 Valentine's, and I ain't about to break my streak now!!! Besides, I haven't posted YasMoon moodboards in like 5 million years. I was getting funky little lesbian collage withdrawal </3

Hilariously, I actually made this moodboard sometime like. Last spring??? And I remember being like "wow!!! This would be a really cute February/Valentine's Day post!!! Too bad I'm probably going to want to put it on the tumblr it way before then in an impulsive, YasMoon-moodboard-posting frenzy :(" BUT THEN!!! Miracle of miracles, I guess, and my life dissolved into such utter pandemonium in the next several months after I made this that I simply did not manage to post this bad boy before next Valentine's Day rolled around. So...all according to plan??? Mission accomplished???

And then. AND THEN. I STILL didn't manage to post it before midnight on the National Love Day itself ^^; Ahhhh uhhhhh just ignore that ^^;

Utterly unashamed of how pink and cutesy and fluffy this ended up being. That's just what hyperfemme lesbians are like on Valentine's, what can I say!!! Although looking at this thing always makes me hungry. God, I want those candy hearts and those smoothies so bad ;_____; I also would like a cute girlfriend to sit on a hill with and overlook the city lights and a cute girlfriend whose manicured hand I can hold on the beach, but that is neither here nor there. Also a much less immediate and important desire than those candy hearts. I'm going to hit up them discount candy deals anD FIND THOSE LITTLE CANDY HEARTS DAMMIT I NEED THEM

YASMOON TAG LIST MY BELOVEDS @multifandom-lesbian09 @karatecaulfield @themasterusersblog @ficusin @gemini-sensei @elisiassideb1tch ask and ye shall receive, welcome to the taglist and also a club of the coolest and sexiest people on planet earth 💗🧡🤍 YASMOON NATION RISE UPPP

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request! If you're curious, the Yasmine and Moon pic I used here comes from some behind-the-scenes pictures of Hannah and Annalisa from Season 5 :3

#yasmoon #yasmine x moon #moon x yasmine #yasmine cobra kai #moon cobra kai #aesthetic #moodboard #cobra kai #cobra kai season 1 #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #cobra kai season 4 #femslash #femslash february #femslashfeb2024 #wlw #sapphic #lesbian

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 10 months

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For the ask game, 🧡💚🤍 for Fuegoleon and Leopold 🥰

YAY! I get to start with Vermillions! ^^

Fuegoleon

💚-- General

He wears exclusively lavender scented hair oil, but to the particular scent he stumbled on by accident. The hair oil bottle caps had been accidentally switched at the store, and the morning he opened the bottle to use it, he did notice the scent, but was already running late, which is why he opted to use it regardless. And the scent wasn't unpleasant by any means either. So, by the time the day was done, he had concluded it to be a good scent, which is why he used the entire bottle, and based on it the store made a signature one for him, adding a little bit of richness to a custom made solution.

🧡-- Childhood/Backstory

Though Fuegoleon was a diligent student, up to the point where Theresa needed to keep him from exhausting himself, because she knew that it'd take time for him to grow, it got to Fue at times. Which is why he used to write a journal, in which there were also (though a bit clumsy) poems about his own emotions.

If he was asked about it, he'd quite simply say that it was for the sake of practicing his penmanship, with which it did help, but the real reason for him to keep it and write it, the diary and the poems, was to handle his own emotions. And it allowed him to identify and process his emotions very constructively, as well as better take an analytic approach to all situations.

🤍-- Fluff

He has all the birthdays and other important dates for his near and dear written in his calendar well in advance, as well as reminders a few weeks before so that he wouldn't miss the dates when they arrive. Partly it's about wanting to be prepared and have enough time to think about a thoughtful gift, but even if he wouldn't think about a gift to give, he wants to be sure to at least remember the date and be able to congratulate the person in question.

Leopold

💚-- General

There was a time when Leo did consider another job than a MK for himself. But this was kept to himself, because he felt that it was an expectation of the family (and public) for him to be a knight, much like all of his family.

He did want to have a job where he'd get to help people though, and he quite quickly realized that politics, as in purely just politics, weren't for him, so he relinquished that idea. And he realized that thought to be just his insecurity talking, since he was still quite unsure of his own abilities. But still, if he could work with knights, train them and be more on the field, rather than stuck in an office for the job he'll be doing, he'd be more happy than being an "pencil pusher". He'd not made for the indoors.

🧡-- Childhood/Backstory

The first Leo heard about the canyon where Mereo wanted to chuck him as a toddler, he snuck out during the night. He was 13 at the time, and had heard about it by chance, but he thought that Anieu and Aneue must've climbed out of it by themselves, so he should too. So, he descended down there through the safest route and climbed back up all by himself. It was the first time he felt really, genuinely, all around accomplished.

🤍-- Fluff

He is very well versed with "language of the flowers", so he's able to order bouquets and flowers for the birthdays and other celebration days for his family members if need be, or a potential spouse later on, that are extremely fitting. Most might be able to think of only romantic meanings for flowers, but Leo knows all platonic meanings too.

#fuegoleon vermillion #leopold vermillion #black clover headcanons #black clover

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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(Hanahaki AU tag)

Steve wants to try hiking some of the Canyonlands trails. Eddie knows this because it’s the first thing Steve says in the morning when Eddie climbs out the back of the van: “We should try hiking some of the Canyonlands trails.”

“Okay,” says Eddie, even though he doesn’t have hiking boots, has never been hiking before, and never thought of himself as someone who would ever go hiking in his life. But he’s not all that inclined to say no to Steve on a normal day, and Steve’s just accepted a passel of his biggest secrets and moved on like it’s no big deal, so they go hiking.

Steve picks a trail that’s more of a stroll than a hike, to Eddie’s secret relief, and Eddie has to admit that it’s pretty damn magnificent. It takes them maybe an hour and change to get to the overlook from the trailhead, and they probably could’ve gotten there even sooner if Eddie hadn’t kept slowing down to stare out over the canyons. He can’t help it; he’s never seen anything even a little bit like the gnarled trees and red-purple-gold rock layers laid bare by ancient wind and water.

He thinks I gotta use this in a campaign setting somehow before he remembers.

Still, it’d be a good setting. He can picture himself gesturing big and sweeping as he describes the jagged curves of the valley, how the faint blue haze of atmosphere would turn a far-away stone city a dusty indigo color. Every night, the party would look up from their campfire to see the lights of the city a little closer. He could really do something with that sense of anticipation.

Maybe he can leave some notes for the next generation of Hellfire, whatever and wherever that ends up being. Or maybe it’s better to just…let them go their own way. Let them forge their own paths, and all that. Diminish, and go into the West, and remain Eddie Munson.

Steve’s standing with his hands on his hips, squinting out into the late-morning sun. He looks like a hero of old; like an illustration representing the Rugged American Spirit of Exploration or something like that. Real history-book stuff.

“So…” Steve says as Eddie wanders up behind him. “Is it just this guy? Or is it always guys?"

"Always guys," says Eddie. "It's why I moved to Hawkins."

"I don't get it."

"Yeah, you do."

"Oh. That's—I'm sorry, man. That sucks."

Eddie nods, because it does suck.

They stand there for a little while, thinking their own thoughts and staring out over a landscape big enough to make their problems feel a little smaller. Some kind of big black bird, maybe a raven or a crow or something, wheels overhead.

Back in the van, headed south on the US-191 with nothing but near-flat scrubland for miles on either side, Steve brings it up again. Eddie thinks this might just be how it’s going to be for a while, until Steve gets it out of his system.

“Is it…” Steve drums his fingertips along the armrest, out of time with the radio. “Is that why you’re not telling him? Because it’s a guy?”

“Kind of,” says Eddie.

“Listen, I know how this is gonna sound, but. You should tell him anyway. I know there’s, like, risks and stuff, but it’s gotta be worth it, right? I mean, this is literally life and death, man. And hey, I’ll come along and beat him up if he’s not…if he’s an asshole, okay?”

A wave of impossible fondness rises in Eddie, and right on cue, he starts hacking up a fucking bouquet. At least now he doesn’t have to mess around with hiding it from Steve, he can just pull over and stumble out to crouch by the side of the road and spit up those hideous butter-yellow petals. He’s leaving traces of himself all across the country like a fucked-up Johnny Appleseed.

Steve gets out too, leaning against the hood. “Maybe I should drive for a while.”

Eddie wipes his mouth. “You know where we’re going?”

“Do you?”

Eddie shrugs and stands up. “Yeah, okay, you got me. I just…wanted to see a little more of the country, y’know? Head to the coast, maybe. I’ve never seen the ocean.”

Steve claps him on the shoulder and climbs into the driver’s seat. “Sure, I can do that. Let’s go see the ocean.”

#steddie #Hanahaki AU #iiiii have been that bitch staring out over incomprehensible natural majesty and going 'wow I could really use this in my silly dice game'#no regrets tbh #I think this is the end of ch2 but I want to do a tiny bit more editing before I upload it to AO3

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pazzesco · 5 months

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🎨 Phyllis Shafer

Phyllis Shafer - Bumblebee Bouquet (2019), oil on linen, 24 × 24 inches

Phyllis Shafer - Cadmium Sluice (2023), oil on linen, 18 × 20 inches

Phyllis Shafer - Autumn on the Eastside (2022), oil on linen, 20 × 18 inches

Flicker’s Ascent (2016), oil on linen, 28.25 × 36 inches

Clark Canyon (2008), oil on canvas, 24 × 30 inches

Hope’s Lupine (2010), oil on canvas, 24 × 18 inches

Swallowtail Dance (2019), oil on linen, 32 × 38 inches

Greyhound (2013), oil on linen, 48 × 60 inches

Phyllis Shafer - Day Undressed Herself (2019), oil on linen, 18 × 20 inches

I believe that a kind of transcendental essence lies at the heart of all natural forms and objects. There is a concept in Zen Buddhist painting known as kiin-seido, meaning “living moment” or the immediate, intuitive expression of a subject’s essential nature. While I am not a practitioner of Zen Buddhism, I am interested in this concept as it relates to our experience of landscape. My artistic goal is, through the process of painting, to distill and crystallize that essence and the vital rhythms that animate it. ~ Phyllis Shafer

#art #paintings #Phyllis Shafer

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 8 months

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I woke up this morning and wore my Ohana hat from a store in Hanalei in the house where I'm staying off Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles. Ohana means family in Hawaiian, and I'm not talking bloodline, though of course it also means bloodline.

I woke up this morning and tried to reach my friend Kat again who lives up country in Maui because they don't have water or electricity and I did not hear from her yet.

I woke up this morning missing Conor and Mika. Last time I returned to Kauai from Los Angeles, five year old Conor asked me what it was like to miss me.

It makes me wonder why as adults we go so long without wondering. How we decide so much before we ask questions.

I went to get a coffee at Erewhon in Pacific Palisades, a health food store where Margaret Cho cut in front of me in line two days ago to order her post workout protein drink with her entourage.

I got into the checkout line and my cashier was a beautiful American Indian man with a moon face and long gray hair to his shoulders and gentle eyes, and he asked me if I was a member of the store.

No, I don't live here, I said, I'm not a member.

Where do you live?

Hawaii.

When I spoke Hawaii, he stopped what he was doing - put my groceries down and reached across the counter for both my hands. His fingers were ringed with turquoise and silver.

He asked me if I was alright.

Yes, I don't live on Maui, I said, but...well, of course I have friends who do, and no - nobody is really alright there at all.

Right there, in the middle of a store on Sunset Blvd. with peonies and sunflowers and eucalyptus leaves in extravagant bouquets, with six kinds of exotic mushrooms and every kind of fresh sushi and nut milk ever made - a place where a protein drink is named after Hailey Bieber -

he blessed me - and everyone on Maui.

I felt a warmth rush through me, and all of humanity between us - the women buying the $300 t-shirts next door and the homeless man with the matted hair being followed by security last night.

The American Indians who have so much suffering in their DNA, they know what a Land Grab is, they know how the government conspires to take and not serve the people...

His name was Joseph and he blessed me, and in blessing me and the people of Maui, he also blessed you - you who are reading this. Whatever illness you are healing from, whatever pain you have endured, whatever laughter and joy you grab when you can and savor....

his blessing was also meant for you.

I'm helping a dear friend heal from an injury and teaching and hiking and weeping and writing and listening to stories about home, because that's our topic in the writing group - love of home.

Los Angeles is not my home anymore - Hawaii has been for fifteen years, but the Santa Monica canyon and Will Rogers park live inside of me, and always will.

Each morning I walk the dogs and take in the morning sage.

Each night I walk the dogs again and listen to the owls talk to each other across the canyon.

Each night I stay up late on my computer learning what I can do to help Maui.

[...]

I'm sure somebody close to you needs help. Sometimes all we need to do is cook for someone and share a meal and pick up groceries, or share a story.

Even take out their trash.

Let's give and give to each other until it's a way of life again. I promise you it will create a ripple wave that will reach as far as Maui, and create the feeling of Ohana all over the world.

Yesterday on Abbott Kinney, I stood in front of a gallery window staring at this painting of The Last Supper by Johan Andersson. I took a photo of it, when a family walked in between me and the painting - they paused.

We all discussed what it meant. At the table is someone snorting drugs, an exhausted mother not paying attention to her baby, a prison inmate, two people making out - someone with a machine gun.

Finally, the mother in the group looked at me and sighed.

It means Jesus loves all of us, she said.

Yep - All of us, I echoed.

Take someone's hands today you love and pass the blessing on.

[...]

To honor all the houseless people on Maui today, and all over the world, I give you this last stanza of a Mary Oliver poem - "On Losing a House."

Goodbye, house. Goodbye, sweet and beautiful house, we shouted, and it shouted back, goodbye to you, and lifted itselfdown from the town, and set offlike a packet of clouds acrossthe harbor’s sandy ring, the tossing bell, the untowned point— and turned lightly, wordlessly, into the keep of the wind where it floats still— where it plunges and rises still on the black and dreamy sea.

-Laura Lentz

#words and writing #losing a house #home #Laura Lentz #Mary Oliver #On Losing A House

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headlightsforever · 1 year

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And my mother's final gasp as well- as if just then she had to witness it again: her only daughter on her way to the back door, bearing a bouquet made of all the flowers in the neighbor's garden. And how her final breath sounded just like that screen door, opening fast.

Laura Kasischke, “The Breath” from What Now? New and Selected Poems, Copper Canyon Press, 2017

#laura kasischke #poetry #poem #literature #lit #writing #poet #quote #quotes #poets #poems #death #copper canyon press

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itsalwaysforyou · 1 year

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read on ao3: eventually the birds must land

Before her eyes, Jay convulses into a bouquet of marigolds; a storm; a knife; a star; a bleeding heart; a desert; an ocean; a canyon aching with a fear of its own dark corners. She has dislodged the olive branch, drawn it like she used to offer him bread. And Jay sits, and stares, expressionless, motionless, chest heaving like a nebula.

“Oh.” He’s terrifyingly still, like if he so much as breathes too quickly he’ll rupture this tranquil delirium they’re suspended in.

or: do you love me enough that i may be weak with you?

or or: jay, mal, and vulnerability.

#I FINISHED MY FIC EVERYONE #i’ve been working on this since august btw </3 #anyway have my 3.2k of brain rot #jal #shining pearls

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bee-dot-exe · 1 year

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Well, I was writing this with someone in mind who is no longer active for an event that is no longer happening. What can you do. I'd still like to share it, because I got the go ahead, and I had a wonderful time writing. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys, and please feel free to send any requests if you're interested and wanna see more of anything in the future. Oh, also it's technically x reader, but pet names are used in place of y/n. I also gave the the reader as little description as possible so anyone can picture themselves if they wish. Also gender neutral. Happy Valentine's Day.

Your Golden Hour

No warnings

710 words

It had been ten minutes since they sent me a text saying they would be here in about fifteen. I was already planning something special before either of us knew about the additional hours added to their schedule last minute.

Satisfied with the temperature, the tub was now filled to just above the halfway point, bubbles taking up the remaining space. A few candles of their favorite scent were lit and sitting around the edge of the sink, creating a soft and pleasant hue in the smaller bathroom.

Picking up the small bouquet of pink roses, I waited nearby the door of our apartment, listening as the key was inserted and clicked from the other side.

"Wil, I'm so sorry, I wanted to spend the day with you so bad, but then everything just---"

"Hello my angel, happy Valentine's Day."

Everything was quiet for a few seconds as they took everything in.

"I hope you don't mind the---"

And they were standing on tip toes, arms around my neck, kissing me softly but passionately.

"Well that was a nice surprise."

"You're surprised? What's all this then?"

"Only what you deserve, my love." I replied, holding out the flowers, which they took carefully and held in front of their face, smile spanning a length competing with canyons and reaching either ear from behind the clear plastic and blooms.

"Something smells lovely."

"Perhaps it's coming from there?" I pointed to the bathroom around the walls' corner.

They eyed me a tad suspicious before following my line of sight.

"I can not believe you!" Their voice went up half an octave in faux disbelief from where they stood in the doorway.

"Take all the time you would like for yourself to get rid of any stress or worries you may have from the day, bub, I'll have dinner out when you're ready."

Right around the half hour mark, I heard the plug be pulled to drain the bath water, and I began to prep our dinner, one of their favorite pasta dishes, to be plated.

"I haven't felt that relaxed in a while." They were in much comfier clothes now, but still holding a towel to dry the roots of their hair with, I leaned down slightly for them to reach easier and gave them a soft peck on the lips, before motioning to the stove where our dinner waited.

"It's not much, but I know you love it, and I like it too, I just wanted to do it because it's nice, and you deserve everything always and---"

Stopping my rambling, they grabbed my hands like two pieces of art, rubbing padded thumbs across knuckles in a form of appreciation without using words, and led us to the table.

Our bellies full and tastebuds satisfied, the dishes were quickly washed and I put them away. I moved from the kitchen to my guitar in its case in our bedroom before returning to the sofa where they sat against one end sideways. I motioned for them to sit near me and pet my lap, inviting them to lay across, which they did so eagerly as I made sure the instrument was tuned.

The familiar notes began to dance in the air as they settled a bit further into my lap.

"With the love of my life, they've got glitter for skin, my radiant beam in the night, I don't need no light to see you shine."

The way their skin practically glowed with the hues of near dusk coming through the blinds, a sort of halo atop their head, coincidentally magical as I held the last note.

I could feel them somehow relax further and their breathing evened out as the day and the song came to a close. After setting my guitar in front of the sofa, using the armrest and side table to balance it for the time being, I placed one hand on their face to cradle it, the other on the crown of their head to gently play with their hair. I bent ever so slightly forward and with one final soft kiss, I knew they were asleep, the pink roses sitting in a vase on the coffee table in front of us.

"Happy Valentine's Day, darling, sweet dreams."

#mcyt #dsmp #wilbur soot #x reader #valentine's day

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